The arrival of Zach
by Jody Barsch
Summary: One shot. He's new to the prison, close to her age and refreshingly charming, she's in a rut of work and jobs and survival. Beth meeting Zach.


It's midmorning when one of the new arrivals emerges from G Block and crosses the courtyard for breakfast. He's young, maybe early twenties, and noticeably lacks the initial unease typical of new additions to the prison community. He pulls up a seat under the shade at the outdoor kitchen and tucks in closest to the pretty blonde girl busy washing dishes. Someone hands him a tray, and as he lifts his fork, the young man who, out on the road where he and his small group had been picked up by Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie,had 'd introduced himself as _Zach_, fires off a cavalier smile and nods in Beth's direction. "Hey," he says pleasantly, with the self-assurance that comes with having charmed people his whole life.

Beth looks up from the dishes she's washing and greets him with a benignly friendly smile. "Hey." She doesn't seem to especially see him, or note that he's directing his singular attention to her. The girl's mind is absently on the job she's got to do, and he watches her as she continues scrubbing the trays and utensils from the morning meal, then looks around their surroundings with great pleasure and satisfaction, taking in the gardens, the people, the fences, the sense of family life. As he sees it, things don't get any better. "You been here long?" he asks her.

"Huh?"

"_Here_," he clarifies, "at the prison, how long's it been since they brought you in?"

Beth looks at him. "Nobody brought me in."

"You been here since they took the place?" he asks with due respect. "Pretty cool," he observes, looking again at the yard and the surrounding fences. "Hadda've been a job..." his eyes travel easily from the the walkers outside to the gates and fences between them. "You guys have it made here," he smiles. "Must'a been pretty sweet livin' here all these months, meanwhile us jerk-offs 're out on the road." He grins, but Beth isn't quite able to.

"It, uh—" her eyes don't need to rest on the burnt out watch tower, or the fortified front gates, or their cluster of modest graves "—it hasn't been exactly like that." Beth leaves it there, going no further to tell all that had happened. If he's still alive, no doubt he's seen the equivalent. And it does no good to recount the past over and over until you're no longer able to see the day you're living as anything different from the horror that's behind you.

"Yeah," he shrugs blithely. "We're all tryin' to keep from being some corpse's lunch — collateral damage of the 'end times'." The young man leans back into his chair with the genial arrogance of youth and the comfort of being alive. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen." Beth glances at him, but her eyes catch on her father with Daryl, and Rick, crossing through the yard, looking on at Zach chatting her up. She looks away.

"Oh yeah?" he asks with a grin. The young guy shovels a forkful of breakfast past his lips. "I's starting to think I'd never see anyone my age, 'r younger, ever again."

"There are little kids here," she half smiles, her dimples showing, "a bunch of 'em. A baby even."

Leaning forward again Zach lets the front legs of his seat slamdown unexpectedly. "No shit?"

"Mm,hm."

"A _baby _baby?"

"Under a year."

"Tha's crazy."

"She's Rick's daughter; almost a year old."

"Rick?" Zach's only been in the camp for two days. "That the farmer?"

Beth looks at him, not used to hearing the former sheriff described this way. "He's the leader."

"Thought that was Daryl," he remarks with casual disinterest.

"It's— I guess it's complicated."

But Zach doesn't really care. "I'm twenty," he tells her unsolicited. "Actually," he pauses to consider, "may be twenty-one by now. _Hmph_," he snorts, "that didn't turn out too big, did it?" Beth smiles that smile everyone smiles these days:_ mutual commiseration, hold the sympathy_. Everyone has more stories than they can recount of things they've missed out on and things that they've lost. A person can't possibly be sorry for them all. He too shrugs it off. "Guess it's just as well I got the use outta my fake ID when I did." Beth gets the impression that this is a guy that doesn't let things get to him. Not that he's a stone wall, like Daryl sometimes feigns to be, or singularly determined and hopeful like Glenn, but resilient and insouciant. He's the funny kid in class who got away with being a smartass because he really is smart. He's the swaggering braggart quick with a smile and an engaging story; she can tell, he's the type to not only shrug life off but laugh it off, and then keep going. "You were still in high school? When this went down?"

"Mm,hm."

"I's at Georgia Tech. Second year." Brushing at his nose he continues, "Engineering major." Zach pauses, and looks around, "I'd say th_a_t's gone to shit."

Beth looks at him, "How'd you get out?"

"Was with my roommates, carrying aluminum bats and an emergency fire axe." He bites his lower lip, past scenes clearly replaying in his mind, then cocks his head back and squints into the sunlight. "Anyways." He looks back at her, "I'm the only one of us still standing. Met up with the road crew couple months back. Me, Paul, an' Rudy. Couldn't believe it when the cavalry, courtesy of Daryl n' co. came in. Thought we were dead that time for sure."

"He's good that way. Daryl."

"Ya'll are in my book." With her inner arm Beth brushes away the sweat forming at her brow. "So," he grins at her, "you got a boyfriend?" Beth laughs, and so unexpected was it the burst comes out quite louder than she'd have guessed. She hadn't been flirted with in years. It's practically unreal, simultaneously ridiculous and so mundane. "I'm Zach," he says, "by the way," his charming knowing grin still dominating his expression as he extends his hand out to her. "And you are?"

"Beth."

"Well, _Beth_," he says as he rises from his chair, "good to meet ya. Guess I'll be seein' you around." If Beth smiles at all it's into the sudsy basin of water, but she thinks — as the cute boy walks away with that edge of arrogance he wears so easily — how refreshing it is to be hit on, instead of sheltered and looked after. Of all the things this guy Zach sees when he looks at her, '_fragile little girl_' never made the list.


End file.
